


Camazotz

by GhostWriter13025



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Actual locations, Cursed Film, OC - Baron Morbid, OC - Jacques Strahp, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Weird references, horror convention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 05:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 16,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16968948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostWriter13025/pseuds/GhostWriter13025
Summary: Sam and Dean are up against something new. What's up with this film? And who knew horror conventions could be so much fun!





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written by my friend T.S. Domino! They asked me to post it to see what kind of comments they get back!

Susan walked up to the darkened storefront and looked for the door as she had been instructed. There her finger and after a moment a tiny, male voice responded.

“Hello?”

“Hello, my name is Susan Baker. I came about the part in the movie.”

“Yes, of course. I will buzz you in.”

The wrought iron door made a noise like an angry bee and she opened it. There was a bare wooden staircase leading up. A single, yellow bulb cast a gloomy feel over the stairs. Susan gulped nervously and, clutching her headshot with the resume printed on the back slowly made her way up the stairs.

She finally reached the top and gently knocked on the worn wooden door.

It flew open and a short, round man with huge glasses smiled at her.

“Welcome! Come in, come in!”

“Um,” Susan  hesitated .

The man before her was covered in blood.

“What is the matter, young lady?” Then he looked down at himself and chortled.

“Oh, yes. Our special effects people do tend to get carried away.”

At the words ‘special effects’ Susan visibly relaxed. She knew she was auditioning for a part in a horror movie. She assumed the man in front of her was the director, George Adamson. He made cheap, horror flicks that were churned out pretty fast and headed right for the drive-in circuit.

Susan couldn’t afford to be picky at this time in her career. She went on auditions every day and the big studios were showing zero interest so it was time to try the low budget stuff. Waiting tables paid the rent, but she wanted to be in the movies. She knew she was pretty. She deserved to be in the movies.

“Come in my dear,” George waved her into the studio. As she walked in she knew that she had made an error in  judgment .

The huge room was covered in blood and the multiple bodies strewn about the floor.

Then she heard George Adamson lock the door behind him.

“You have arrived at a most opportune time, my dear,” George slowly walked towards her. “This film will be my master opus. The film they will all recognize as pure genius. For the first time ever I will use the medium of film to summon a being into existence that will make me the ruler of the world.”

“You’re crazy,” Susan whimpered as she backed away from him, her eyes darting in every direction looking for some way to escape. The windows she could see were covered in iron bars similar to the design on the door down at the street. She knew she had nothing in her purse to stop him with.

George Adamson picked his way across the corpses towards the 16mm camera on a sturdy tripod. Everything on the camera was covered in plastic except the lens. He saw there was a drop of blood on the lens and took out a cloth from his pocket to clean it off.

“Y-you can’t kill me,” Susan stammered as she continued to look around for a way out.

“But, Susan, without you as my final piece of the puzzle I will be unable to finish Camazotz.”

“Camazotz?”

“Yes, the name of my epic film!”

“Um, that doesn’t sound like a good name for a movie.”

“Everyone is a critic. Are you ready for your scene my dear?”  George started the camera and pointed at Susan.

“But, isn’t there anything I can do to change your mind?”

“Ah yes, the weapon of the starlets of today…sex. I’m afraid not, my dear.”

“You can’t kill me!” Susan screamed.

“Oh, I won’t kill you, my dear.”

“Really?”

“Of course not. I have to operate the camera. Low budget you know. No, he’ll be the one to kill you.”

George pointed to his left and Susan whirled around to see a mountain of a man with an  executioner’s hood and a huge ax. His leather apron was slick with the blood of those already dead on the floor.

Susan’s mouth opened wide with a scream that reverberated throughout the huge room as the ax fell onto her head. A spray of blood flew across the room and landed on the lens of the camera as it whirred away. A huge smile crossed George Adamson’s face.

“Cut and that’s a wrap,” George giggled.


	2. 2

The ’67, black Chevy Impala slid down 1-94 headed west. Rock music blaring over the speakers. Dean Winchester had a rare smile on his face as he drove Baby. Sam Winchester looked at his brother with a scowl on his face. Dean noticed and said;

“What’s your problem?”

“What are you so happy about? ”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we’re barreling down I-94 at,” Sam leaned over to check the speedometer, “one hundred miles an hour headed where exactly?”

“I thought we would check in with Kevin and see how much progress he’s made on the demon tablet.”

"Really?"

"Yes, really, Sam. How else are we going to close the door to Hell? I don’t know about you, but I would call it a good day if we could just eliminate demons from our lives once and for all."

"Then why the smile? Are you that happy about closing the gate to Hell?"

"Well, yeah." Dean smiled showing two perfect rows of white teeth, his green eyes catching the light of the light from the passing streetlights. "That and, how much fun was that LARPing thing with Charlie?"

Sam laughed.

"I knew that was it! And, yes that was a lot of fun."

"You think Charlie is still mad that we cock blocked her with that fairy?" Dean asked.

"I think that Charlie is glad that we got rid of the threat and helped her team win the game."

"Kingdom," Dean corrected.

"What?"

"It's not a team, Sam. Teams are for sports, you know baseball, football...”

"I know what sports are, Dean," Sam interrupted. "Anyway, I'm glad you had fun. So, off to check on Kevin then?"

"Absolutely," Dean's beaming smile said it all.

Then Sam's phone rang. He looked at the screen and sighed.

"Who is it?" Dean asked.

Sam mouthed the name, 'Garth' and answered the phone.

"Hello, Garth."

Dean busied himself with driving Baby down the road. Traffic was sparse that time of night and Dean kept a watchful eye for any police cars that might be lurking in the darkness. The Winchesters liked to keep the law away from them as much as possible. He was pretty sure he could outrun anything in Michigan, but at the same time, he knew Sam wouldn't let him.

Sam finished his conversation and hung up.

"What did Garth want?"

"He said he's got a job for us."

"He does, does he? Did you tell him we were checking on Kevin?"

"I did. He's already there."

"And?"

"And, Kevin is still working on the tablet. No news to report on that front. So, he thought we could check out this job instead."

"Oh, so he's really embracing this whole 'Bobby' thing isn't he?"

"It would seem so, yes."

"Did he call you an idjit?"

"No, I think he saves that one for you."

"So, what's the job?"

"People missing in Kalamazoo?"

"Kalamazoo? You mean that place we barrel past whenever we're going to Chicago or Detroit?"

"The one and the same. Anyway, all of the people fit a specific profile; young, female. Garth says that there have been five reported in the last week."

"And no bodies?"

"Nope."

"Maybe they just got sick of living in a place called Kalamazoo?"

"Be that as it may, since we are going to go right past the town to get to where we want to go we may as well have a look around."

"Works for me.”

Dean gunned Baby down the highway headed straight for Kalamazoo.


	3. 3

Dean eased Baby off the highway and right on to the business loop that would take them downtown. The car rumbled its disapproval of going so slow after the haul down I-94. 

"Place has a lot of  microbreweries , doesn't it?" Dean observed.

Sam nodded, checking out the situation on his laptop.

"According to this, the police said that a lot of the missing girls are right near the downtown area. Makes sense they do have a large college in town. Correction, they have a few colleges in town."

"College girls, huh?" Dean smiled.

"Yeah, keep it out of the gutter, Romeo," Sam admonished. 

"Sam, what's the weird building in the center of town?"

Sam looked up and clacked a few keys on his laptop.

"That is the Radisson Center. A high-end hotel with some shops and restaurants. Seems to take up a full city block."

"Remember that hustle we pulled at that last town on the way here, Ann Arbor?"

"You mean the pool hustle you pulled."

"Right, you didn’t help with that at all did you? Anyway, I made some serious coin there. What say we live it up a little?"

"Sure," Sam gave a forced smile. "Why not? Beats a crappy motel on the outskirts of town and having to come back into town later."

Dean smiled and navigated through the snarl of one-way streets.

"This could be the most construction I have ever seen in my life, Sam."

"I was going to say the same thing. Hey, there's a parking ramp and that tunnel over the street runs to it so, I'll bet that's where we want to go."

"On it," Dean replied and skillfully maneuvered a two-lane change and slid into the parking garage. He took the ticket so that the barrier would go up and then slowly pulled into the parking structure.

"Dean, why the slow, old man drive here? It's just a parking garage?"

"Just a parking garage? Sam, when you have an exquisite machine like my baby here you can't just settle for any old spot. Can't park in the middle or the roof because of those winged vermin known as pigeons. There are spots that are marked for no one to use so, we skip those. Something facing out but not so that the wind and rain beat the poor car to death. Use your head, Sam!"

"Sorry, I did not realize that there was such an art form to parking a car."

"Well, now you know."

After ten minutes of decision making, Dean finally pulled Baby into a nice spot. They grabbed their overnight bags and headed toward the tunnel. 

"This is pretty cool. Walking over the traffic like this, isn’t it, Sam?"

"Yeah, pretty cool." Sam said absentmindedly. His mind was elsewhere.

With Amelia.

He had been happy for the year that Dean had been in Purgatory. Sam had no idea what had happened to his brother and decided to give up the life of a hunter and pursue one of a normal person instead. He had truly cared for Amelia, but family was family and Sam knew that he had to help his brother and if he tried to do that with Amelia in the picture then sooner or later she would die. Being the lover of a hunter was almost always a fatal experience.

Hunters were meant to be alone. Or, with other hunters. In the end, Sam chose his brother like he always did.

Winchesters were always about family. It was the most important thing and Dean was all that he had left in the world.

They walked through the spacious hotel lobby and the first thing Dean noticed also caught Sam's attention.

There were so many people dressed in wild and bizarre costumes.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"It's not Halloween, right?"

"Not last time I checked."


	4. 4

The lobby was filled with people some in costume, some not. Some Sam and Dean recognized from television and movies. Dean was more than a little uncomfortable when in the walk from the stairs to the front desk he saw at least ten women dressed in costumes he recognized from Japanese animated porn that filled a large part of the hard drive of his laptop. 

“Holy crap!” He exclaimed. “Sam! Did you see…?”

“Yes, your favorite thing has come to life. Unfortunately, I did notice.”

A young lady wearing very little with a pink wig on walked up to the two of them.

“Sam Winchester.”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“You’re Sam Winchester. From the books.”

“Ah, yes,” Sam ran his hand through his thick, brown hair. “The books. You remember the books, right?” He asked looking at Dean.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Who are you supposed to be?” She asked Dean.

“Oh, I’m Dean.”

“Really? Yeah, sorry not feeling it, but I get it. It’s not easy to cosplay a literary character. Except for the covers, there isn’t a lot of reference to go on.”

“Cosplay?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, you know ‘costume play’. For instance, I’m…”

“Oh, no need to introduce yourself,” Dean interrupted. “I know who you are. I’ve seen every episode of your show. It’s like Amimiko brought to life.”

“Oh, well thanks for that,” she smiled. “My name is Beverly, by the way. You guys are here for Morbid Fest?”

“Morbid Fest?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, once a year in Kalamazoo they hold Morbid Fest. Its movies and games and people dressing up. The local horror host, Baron Morbid puts it on. This is like the tenth year and he’s promised us something really spectacular this year.”

“Ah, well that sounds like fun,” Sam spoke up. “We are just going to go and check in now, Beverly. Nice to meet you.”

“You too, Sam” Beverly purred and shook his hand. 

Dean put his hand out to shake hers and Beverly frowned.

“Yeah, if you’re that big a fan there’s no way I’m shaking that.” Beverly wiggled away into the throng of people.

Sam and Dean watched her leave and then Sam laughed out loud.

“Yeah, yeah, funny stuff,” Dean growled. “Come on, let’s get checked in.”


	5. 5

As Sam and Dean made their way to the front desk, Beverly made her way to a nearby restroom. The costume while revealing and attractive wasn’t really made for bathroom breaks. She went to the handicapped stall because of the extra room and was soon stripped down to nothing, her costume carefully hung on the hooks on the door.

She was impressed with the hotel’s bathrooms. Marble and brass everywhere and actual wooden doors with louvered slats pointing down to protect your privacy.

As she flushed she heard a bizarre noise in the bathroom.

“Hello?” she said quietly, but the acoustics in the bathroom made the word echo anyway. She felt dumb saying that. Sounded like a line from a crappy horror movie.

Then it was quiet.

Someone must have just come in for something and right back out again, she reasoned to herself as she finished strapping herself back into her costume. She wished there was a mirror in the stall and  immediately knew it was too much to hope for. She walked out and checked herself in the full-length mirror.

“Gorgeous,” she said to herself. Then she remembered the guy cosplaying as Sam Winchester and an impish smile crossed her face. She would definitely have to see about some alone time with that tall piece of cosplayer. 

As long as she could get him away from his buddy. She felt a little sorry for the guy cosplaying Dean. It was like he never saw a single cover of any of the Supernatural books.

Oh God, she thought. What if they were there ‘together’? She pouted at the thought and made her way out of the restroom.  Beverly accidentally went right instead of left towards the lobby, lost in thought of the Sam Winchester guy with the gorgeous hair. Soon, she found herself in a hallway that lead towards the clattering and rustling of one of the kitchens.

She giggled and went to turn around and saw someone headed for her.

“Oh, it’s you!” Beverly smiled. “What are you doing here? Did you get lost, too?”

The figure in front of her raised a huge club with bizarre carvings on it.

“What is that?” She asked. “Some kind of prop? It looks pretty cool.”

The club came down on her head, knocking her out and to the ground. The figure, hidden by shadows dragged her off into a nearby banquet room.


	6. 6

Sam and Dean walked into their hotel room. They each chose a bed and Dean flopped down on his. He looked around  curiously .

“I don’t think a place like this is going to have the Magic Fingers option for their bed, Dean.”

“Bummer,” Dean frowned. “For the price of the room, there should be an actual person with magic fingers here.”

“Yeah, still too high class for that, too.”

Sam pulled a few things out of his bag and put his laptop on the table. Dean followed suit.

“So, what do you thing  Amimiko meant by my Dean costume not looking good?”

“ Amimiko ? You mean Beverly?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Have you seen the covers of Chuck’s books, Dean?”

“Yeah, no. I’m not reading that trash, Sam.”

Sam’s fingers flew over the keyboard and he turned his computer to face Dean.

“There’s a cover from one of them. Do you think you look like this guy.?”

Dean leaned over to look at the lurid cover with Sam and Dean in some bizarre romantic novel cover pose. Sam was easy to spot because he was the taller of the two on the cover. Hair was longer than Sam’s. The other guy on the cover that was supposed to be him wasn’t even close.

“They made me look like Fabio!”

“Fabio?” Sam turned the laptop around to get a better look at the picture. “Yeah, you wish this guy looked like Fabio. Looks more like a reject from  an 80s hair metal band. Epic six pack though.”

Sam stared at Dean. Dean looked uncomfortable and closed his red flannel shirt over the  t-shirt he had on underneath.

“Speaking of six-pack,” Dean smiled. “I’m thirsty. Pretty sure I saw a bar downstairs. Care to join me?”

“Not yet. I want to do a little more research before we start this job. You just watch yourself around all those cosplayers down there.”

“Maybe I’ll run into  Amimiko again.” Dean’s green eyes flashed  mischievously .

“Her name is Beverly, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah. Catch up to me if you find out anything, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam waved him off already searching the Internet for clues for the case.

Dean made a beeline for the bar at the end of the long concourse of shops on the main floor. He had to admit that the cosplayers were fascinating. He had a great time helping Charlie with her LARPing and dressing up had been a lot of fun. 

He walked into the bar and sat on one of the stools. A woman in a tuxedo shirt, bow tie, and black pants came over to him with a smile on her face.

“What can I get you, sir?”

“Well, how about you drop the ‘sir’, call me Dean and bring me something local from the tap.”

“Alright, Dean, coming up.”

She walked off before Dean could see if she had a name tag. He long blonde hair cascaded down her back and while Dean’s personal  preference was hair of a  d arker shade, he couldn’t help but notice how well she filled out the bar uniform. She came right back with a frosty glass of amber liquid and set it before him.

“Here you go. Fresh from Bell’s Brewery right down the street.”

Dean took a sip and then nodded his appreciation. She wasn’t wearing a name tag.

“That is good, what is it?”

“Amber Ale.”

“Well, that is tasty…” Dean left it hanging so she would give her name.

“Nancy, Dean. My name is Nancy. I have to say you’re a breath of fresh air with this nerd parade going on in the hotel this weekend.”

“Not a big fan of the cosplay are you, Nancy?” Dean was proud that he remembered the term.

“Yeah, no not really, but I do have to admit that most of them are pretty nice and they do tip well. Except for the orcs.”

“Orcs?” Dean’s ears perked up. “Did you say orcs?”

“Yeah, there’s a whole Tolkien contingent out there in that throng of humanity. Orcs, Elves, pretty sure I even saw a Hobbit.”

Dean pounded his beer and left a ten dollar bill on the bar.

“Keep the change, Nancy.”

“Sure, thanks,” Nancy said as Dean bolted out of the bar in search of orcs. Then she sighed.

“Nerds,” she muttered to herself as she went back to cleaning the vacant bar.


	7. 7

Sam found Dean grinning like an idiot wading through all the costumed people. He was talking to a group of people dressed as orcs. Dean had said something hilarious because they were all roaring with laughter.

Sam walked up to the group.

“Hey, nice Sam Winchester,” one of the orcs said.

“Thanks,” Sam gave a forced smile.  He then gestured for Dean to follow him. They walked away from the main lobby to a quieter area near the stairs that lead to a lower level.

“Those guys are so cool, Sam!” Dean gushed. “Did you see the armor? And the weapons? They made them themselves. Pretty cool, right?”

“Well, Dean don’t sell yourself short. Remember you did make that Purgatory Axe.”

“Yeah! I think that’s out in the trunk. I’m going to have to go back out to the parking garage and get that. These guys would appreciate it.”

“While I’m sure they would, remember the job we came to check out?”

“Oh yeah, missing college co-eds. Huh, sounds a little sleazy when I say it out loud, doesn’t it?”

“Most things do, Dean.” Sam said matter of factly.

“What does that mean?”

“Never mind. What we have are four missing girls in the age range of nineteen to twenty-three. All of them would be described with long blonde hair.”

“Really?” Dean immediately flashed back to Nancy from the bar, but with her curves, no one would ever describe her as thin.

“Why?” Sam asked , “Does that ring a bell or something?”

“What?” Dean shook the bartender out of his head. “No, nothing. It just reminded me of someone.”

Sam smirked and nodded.

“So, four girls missing and zero leads?” Dean changed the subject.

“Right and they all went missing this week.”

“Sam! Oh My God! Look!” Dean pointed across the lobby. Sam looked through all the people and had no idea what he was looking at.

“Dean, what am I looking for here?”

Dean ignored him and walked quickly across the lobby to a huge display. It announced the showing of the lost film by George Adamson, CAMAZOTZ ! The poster was an old exploitation lurid design of a giant winged monster and it was menacing a group of young blonde girls who all looked terrified.

“Look, Sam! George Adamson!”

“And who is George Adamson?”

“You know, the director. Come on we’ve watched his movies. Like Blood Monster and Bloody Mess and, oh remember The Bloody Blood Beast!”

“You mean those awful, cheesy horror films that they showed on late night television and that you would sneak out to get at the video store when Dad was on a hunting trip.”

“One and the same.” Dean smiled. “And now there’s a showing of a movie they thought was lost forever.” 

“Camazotz,” Sam said aloud. “Weird title.”

“What? It’s probably the name of the monster.”

“Well, yeah, I get that, but you’re talking about a director whose entire catalog of films had the word Blood somewhere in the title.” 

“Yeah, but this was his epic film that we had thought lost forever!”

“We,” Sam gave Dean a funny look. “Dean, have you been on the message boards again?”

“What? No. Shut up. Maybe. Dude, it’s George Adamson. What kind of luck is it that we’re in town to do a job and this is here?”

“Luck, yeah not what I would call it if I remember his movies.”

“My, my someone here might be more excited about this movie than me,” came a booming voice from behind them. They turned to see an older man with a long beard. He was wearing a white lab coat festooned with buttons of all kinds and a pair of huge glasses with red lenses and a swirl of silver on each lens.

“Nice Hypno Goggles, gramps.” Dean observed. “And you are…”

“Baron Morbid is the name. Welcome to Morbid Fest gentlemen.” Baron Morbid walked over to Sam.

“Magnificent Sam Winchester costume , sir,” Baron Morbid stopped, looked at Dean and then whispered to Sam. “Who is your friend supposed to be?”

“I’m Dean,” Dean introduced himself.

“Oh, my apologies. Is this just some personal vision of Dean, then? I can see it if you cut off the hair and went the scruffy look. Maybe a  post-apocalyptic Dean. That’s cool, to each their own. So, Dean, you’re a fan of George Adamson’s?”

“Yes, sir. I can’t believe you got ahold of this movie.”

“This is actually the only print ever made of Camazotz. Apparently, right after George Adamson finished the film he disappeared. Luckily, the studio had possession of the negative and struck a single print for viewing, but it was never released.”

“Yeah, I read that online. Any idea why it was never released?”

“Rumor has it that Adamson had gone completely around the bend and the movie made no sense. Then there was the murders?”

“Murders?” Sam asked.

“Yes, it seems that after he turned the film into the lab for processing his studio,  Quantum Productions was raided by the police and there were bodies found there.”

“Bodies?” Dean asked.

“Yes, it seems that our favorite movie director was blurring the lines between reality and fiction.”

Sam and Dean were speechless, staring at Baron Morbid.

Baron Morbid let loose with a loud, hearty laugh.

“Boys, I’m afraid that you have fallen for the oldest rule in the exploitation business.  As the esteemed gentleman David Friedman once said;  Sell them the sizzle.”

“What?” Dean asked.

“I’m just pulling your leg. The studios always did stuff like that back in the day.”

“Oh yeah, like the barf bags for Mark of The Devil,” Dean laughed as he said it. “Man did they get a lot wrong in that movie.”

“Excuse me?” Baron Morbid asked.

“Oh, um, never mind. Anyway, so you’re showing the movie tonight?”

“Tomorrow night. I hope to see you both there.”

“Absolutely,” Dean gave a huge grin and Sam just sighed as he realized he was going to be pulled into this screening no matter what.

“Good, you boys have fun. I have a million things to do today so I will see you later. This schedule of mine is murder.” Baron Morbid laughed, patted Dean on the back and made his way through the crowd.

Dean was still grinning as Baron Morbid left and then he looked to see Sam’s sour face.

“What?”

“Come on Dean,” Sam walked out of the main lobby down one of the hallways that lead out to the downtown walking mall.

“What’s the matter, Sam?”

“Nothing, the noise level in there was just starting to get to me.”

“Yeah,” Dean had not stopped smiling. “Great, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, for you maybe. Anyway, I think we need to go suit up and ask around about the missing girls.”

“That sounds good,” Dean’s eyeline moved down the mall. “Right after we go there.” Dean pointed past Sam who looked over his shoulder to see what he was pointing at.

“Go where?”

“There, I need to know what a place called Rocket Fizz is.”

Sam sighed again and followed Dean down the walking mall to the little store. As they approached the place Dean realized it was a retro candy store and almost squealed with delight as he opened the door.

“Come on, Sam. What are you waiting for?”

They walked into a floor to ceiling blast from the past. Candy and novelty items as far as the eye could see. Dean kept looking and finding something else that he wanted.

The  proprietor greeted them as they walked in the door.

“Hello, gentlemen. Looking for something in particular?”

“This store is great!” Dean said enthusiastically.

“Well, thank you. You guys from the convention ?”

“Um, sort of,” Sam responded. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” the  proprietor said. “I’m a big fan of those old Supernatural books and I can tell you are dressed like Sam Winchester.” He pointed at Dean who was in the back looking at candy bars. “Who’s your friend supposed to be?”

“Oh, no it’s just an unfortunate  coincidence . Actually,” Sam reached into his pocket for his fake FBI ID that he always kept with him. “We’re here about the missing  girls’ case. FBI.” Sam showed his badge to the man behind the counter.

“Oh,” the man looked at the badge. “I see, Agent May. I heard about that. Just awful. Have they found the girls?”

“Not as far as we know. We just got into town and were getting ready to go see the local authorities to see if we could help with the investigation.”

“Sam!” Dean shouted and came up to where the other two were talking. “Look! They have Skybars, Sam. Skybars!”

“Okay, I was just telling the owner here about why we’ve come to help with the missing person case. You know in our  official FBI investigation.” Sam gave the owner a sideways glance.

“What?” Dean sputtered. “Oh yeah, of course. Missing persons.” Dean turned to look at the owner. “Why, do you know anything  Mr. …?”

Dean left the sentence hanging for a response.

“Oh, Edwards, Jonathan Edwards is the name, candy is the game. We  also have a full line of classic soda in the case behind you.”

Dean turned his head and went to the case.

“This is amazing!” Dean exclaimed. “Is this really grass flavored soda?”

“Yup, not a personal favorite, but some people seem to like it.”

Dean turned back to Edwards and made a face.

“Really?”

“Yup, did you see the butter flavored over there?”

“Yeah, but that sounds good. Hey, what’s this, Ginger Beer? You guys sell beer too?”

By this time Sam had walked over to the case to see what his brother was looking at.

“Ginger beer isn’t really beer, Dean. It’s just a soda flavored with ginger.”

“Ugh,” Dean stuck his tongue out. “That sounds gross, Sam.”

“It’s  not that bad, Dean. It helps with digestion.”

“So does actual beer, Sam.”

“Um, I don’t think that’s a thing.”

Dean ignored Sam and walked over to Mr. Edwards. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his fake ID and showed it to the man.

“Thank you, Agent Taylor.”

Dean looked at his ID then at Sam.

“I’m the drummer, really, Sam?” Dean shook it off and turned his attention back to Mr. Edwards. 

“So, did you hear anything about these missing girls?”

“Well, as I was telling your partner, just what I read in the paper. It is good to see the FBI taking an interest. I hope those girls are found safe and sound.”

“Yeah, us too. In the meantime I will be needing these three Skybars and two Zagnuts and, Sam you want anything?”

“Um, sure,” Sam looked absent-mindedly at the selection around him and grabbed a candy bar.

“Charleston  Chew, Sam ?” Dean looked disgusted.

“Yeah, I like those.”

“Boring,” Dean groaned and put the candy bar on the counter to get rung up with his pile of treasures. Mr. Edwards put them all in a paper bag and Dean gave him the cash to pay for them.

“Thank you for the candy, Mr. Edwards,” Dean grinned like a little kid. “Oh and the information.”

“You gentlemen have a good day,” Mr. Edwards smiled as they left the candy shop. The second the door closed behind them his smile disappeared. He grabbed his phone and dialed a number. 

“Yeah, it’s Edwards. We’re going to have a problem.”


	8. 8

Beverly woke up with a severe headache. She had the sensation that she was floating and she could feel her heartbeat in her head. Whatever room she was in was dark except for a pool of light that she was in the center of. After a moment she realized that she was hanging upside down. Her feet were wrapped in rope and her hands were tied behind her back. Her miniscule cosplay costume was doing a bad job of keeping her covered. 

The room was silent. She thought about yelling something, but then she realized that  every time she saw someone do that in a movie it just sounded like a stupid thing to do.

She kept quiet and attempted to look around from her awkward position. 

On the floor under her was a stack of what appeared to be film cans, like the big reels you would use at a theater before everyone transferred to digital.

“What the…?”  she muttered.

Then the room exploded into light and everything that had been enveloped in darkness flared to life.

Beverly found herself wishing that the room had stayed dark.

It was just a basic room, four walls that appeared to be concrete. She could see that the rope binding her feet was looped over a steel beam near the ceiling. If she had to guess it was some kind of utility room or a basement. Unfortunately, the scene of utter carnage around her prevented Beverly from thinking in a calm fashion.

The room was filled with bodies . Even in her panic at all the carnage, Beverly noticed the one odd thing;

They all looked the same; young, skinny, blonde hair.

They all looked like Beverly.

Then she heard a door creak behind her. She started breathing faster as the panic rose into her brain even while being hung upside down. Sweated glistened her form as she tried to struggle out of the ropes, but it was no good. Whoever tied them knew what they were doing and from the bodies around her, Beverly knew that there was no way she was getting out of them.

A figure in a long robe made of brightly colored  feathers and a hood that hid their features  entered her view.

“Who are you?” She screamed. The robed figure did not respond.

A hand appeared from the robe and reached for her. She screamed and then realized that whoever it was was just removing her pink wig. Her natural, long blonde hair tumbled free and almost hung to the floor from where she was hanging.

Then a huge, silver knife with intricate carvings appeared in the robed figures other hand. 

Beverly started to scream. She screamed so loud that the veins in her neck bulged from the effort.

The robed figure began a chant in a language she did not recognize. Beverly gave a hysterical laugh when she realized she knew more fictional languages than real ones and whatever the person was chanting sure as hell wasn’t elvish.  The knife flashed once and slid across her smooth skin and a slice appeared and the crimson fluid poured down her face and onto the reels of film.

As the blood flowed into her face she saw the oddest thing through a haze of red.

The film cans appeared to be absorbing her blood as it rained down on them.

Weird, she thought and then she breathed her last.


	9. 9

Sam and Dean had gone through the motions of suiting up and going to the local police station downtown. They were less than helpful and actually seemed a little perturbed at the FBI showing up to offer to help. 

Sam and Dean were used to this behavior from small-town police forces. It was nothing new so, they decided to just  investigate on their own without co  coordinating anything with Kalamazoo’s finest.

As they crossed the parking lot to where Dean had parked Baby in the back row near the street a restaurant caught Dean’s eye.

“Look, Sam!” Dean exclaimed. “It’s Snoopy!”

Sam looked to where his brother was pointing and sure enough, there was a small restaurant across the street from the police station. It was called Top Dog and there was a figure of Snoopy on the roof. Well, sort of. This dog looked a lot like Snoopy and he was wearing a top hat and eating a hot dog. To Sam, it appeared that Top Dog had been around for a very long time.

“Come on, Sam. I’m hungry. You hungry?”

Dean didn’t wait for an answer and proceeded to make his way across the four lanes of traffic to get to the restaurant,  dodging traffic as he went. Sam followed close behind and waved apologetically at the drivers who had to stop so Dean could get across the street.

They walked into the restaurant and Dean took a big whiff of air and grinned.

“That smells like home cooking to me.”

“All I smell is grease,” Sam sniffed as well.

“That’s what I said.” Dean walked up to the counter and an older gentleman greeted them.

“What can I get for you, gentlemen?”

Dean scanned the board behind the old man and then broke out into a smile.

“I’ll have a Monster Breakwich, please and some black coffee.”

“Certainly, did you want a single, double or triple?”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“Well, we have three breakfast  meats; sausage , bacon, and ham. A regular Monster Breakwich is one meat one egg and a slice of cheese. A double is two meats, two eggs and two slices of cheese and then we have the triple which is…”

“…three of each,” Dean finished the sentence. Yeah, man. That sounds great! Pile it up for me.”

“Will you be eating in, gentlemen?”

“Yes, we will,” Dean replied.

“Let me ask you,” the old man leaned towards Dean  conspiratorially . “What would you say to a nice big ladle of sausage gravy on top of that sandwich?”

“I’d say you are my new best friend.”

“And what can we get for your brother?”

“My brother?” Dean gestured towards Sam. “How do you know he’s my brother?”

“I been working here for over twenty years. I seen a lot of people over the years. You can always tell family. It’s in the eyes.”

Dean shrugged and let Sam order.

“Can I just get two eggs and some bacon with some black coffee?”

“Sounds good, sir.” The old man gave them each a coffee cup and showed them where a full pot was on a hot plate in the dining room. “You two get a seat and I’ll yell when your food’s up.”

Dean nodded, paid for breakfast and went to find a booth. There was a wood burning stove in the back that gave a nice warmth to the small dining room. Along the entire windowsill was a line of paperback books for sale. Sam leafed through few of them  and saw that they really followed no rhyme or reason. Still, it felt good to be surrounded by books while you were eating. It didn’t happen all that often on the road.

“Any good books, Sam?”

“No, nothing you’d want to read. No anime.”

“ Its manga, Sam and it’s an art form.”

“Sure it is.”

Dean was ready to argue, but the old man hollered so Dean went up and grabbed the tray of food. Sam looked at the mountain of breakfast in front of Dean and shook his head.

“How are you able to eat all that, Dean?”

“Well for this mess I was thinking knife and fork.”

“Ha, ha, very funny, Dean.”

Dean grinned with his mouth full as he attacked his breakfast.

Sam sighed and sipped his coffee. He was surprised at how good it was. Then he started eating his breakfast.

“So, what’s our next step?” Sam asked Dean.

“Well,” Dean said between bites. ‘The cops are no help and we know that the missing girls all follow the same pattern; young, skinny blonde. Good thing my new friend Amimiko doesn’t fit that category.”

“You mean Beverly,” Sam corrected. “ What do mean, doesn’t fit the profile? Young, thin.”

“Yeah, Sam, but she has pink hair.” Dean pointed at his own hair to emphasize the point and looked at Sam like he was dumb.

“Dean,” Sam sighed. “That was a wig.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you can see it. I could also see what I thought were a few stray blonde hairs peeking out from under the wig.”

“You mean Amimiko might be in danger?”

“Well, we can always…”

“Hurry up and eat, Sam!” Dean started shoveling food into his face at an amazing speed. 

Sam sighed and finished his breakfast and washed it down with the rest of his coffee. 

Dean wiped his face with his napkin and jumped out of his seat. He ran past the old man at the front counter, stopped and walked back to look at the old man.

“That was amazing. Thank you very much .” Dean put a ten dollar bill on the counter and dashed out the door. Sam followed close behind and gave the old man a smile and a nod.

“Come back anytime!” The old man shouted as they ran out the door. 


	10. 10

Gordon Bushmill was looking for a place to strip out of his orc costume. With layers of green latex over exaggerated muscles, covered in actual armor and hauling around a giant foam rubber battle-ax with a wooden core, he was too bulky to actually use the restroom. When he and his cosplay group decided to be a group of orcs at the conventions they designed the costumes to be convention friendly, but not all restrooms are created equal and the ones in the Radisson were particularly treacherous. Nice and luxurious, but impossible for an orc to maneuver in.

Gordon always planned ahead for this and wore a pair of shorts and t-shirt under his costume. Then he would find an abandoned little corner of the convention, strip down, get his business done and then suit back up.

He was lucky with Morbid Fest because it was a sizeable convention, but they only utilized  a few of the banquet rooms for movie screening and panels. The Radisson had plenty to spare so he headed down a hallway towards a series of doors to find an unoccupied one .

The first two doors he tried were locked and he  started to panic a little. If he needed to he would just strip down next to the restroom and have his orc buddies guard his stuff, but he didn’t like to do that. 

The third door swung wide and revealed a large room completely dark.

Just what the doctor ordered, Gordon thought to himself. He stepped in and moved to the left of the door and started  stripping out of his costume. This was not his first time and he actually did practice with his eyes closed. While he didn’t need to remove the oversized helmet that acted as the mask for the outfit, he did it anyway so he wouldn’t look like some Orc bobblehead with the giant orc head on his skinny frame. He undid the strap that held it in place and set it on top of the pile of parts that made up the costume.

Then Gordon heard something odd. It sounded like chanting. His eyes had acclimated to the darkness so he looked around the room and in the far corner, he saw a single strip of orange light near the floor. The room was empty so he was able to walk across it without hitting anything. The light was coming from underneath an unmarked door. Gordon looked to see if the exit sign was off, but didn’t see an exit sign. The chanting was a little louder now that he was closer to the door.

He looked for a handle and found a simple doorknob that turned easily. That led to a landing with a single set of stairs going down. Gordon peered down, but all he saw was the steps going down and the concrete floor and the chanting was much louder.

Gordon thought it sounded like some bizarre, ancient ritual.

“Who the hell holds ancient rituals in a hotel in Kalamazoo?” he whispered to himself. His curiosity was  stronger than his bladder so he quietly made his way down the stairs to see what was going on.

A little part of his brain hoped for naked witches, but the voices seemed  too deep to be the type  of naked witches he was hoping for.  He continued down the stairs as the chanting increased.

The bottom of the stairs opened onto a hallway of concrete that lead further down at a slant . Halfway down the hallway was a metal door marked, ‘Maintenance’. The chanting was coming from there and Gordon could see light streaming out from under the door.

He got to the door and as he went to turn the doorknob he realized his heart was pounding.

What for? Gordon knew that with his luck it  would just be a bunch of gamers that snuck away to do goofy shit.

Regardless, he slowly opened the door to peek and anything he was ready for couldn’t compare to what he actually saw before him.

There was a circle of people in long, hooded robes. They were the ones chanting. In the center of their circle was a bizarre altar with a demonic bat on it and in the bat's hands were…

Film cans???

Gordon was fascinated at the display in front of him. So fascinated that he failed to see the hooded figure to his left that had went to stand there after Gordon had tripped the invisible silent alarm placed behind the door in the banquet room. The figure pushed Gordon who yelped in fright from the silent attack. 

The group of hooded figures turned to face Gordon. Their hoods were down over their face so he couldn’t make out who any of them were or if he had seen them before.

The creepy part was the chanting did not stop as they walked towards him. He could feel the sweat bead up on his body as they got closer. When they were close enough to touch the chanting stopped. The figure  in front spoke;

“What do we have here?”

“What kind of game  you guys playing down here. Cool altar guys. I don’t think I recognize that one. ”

“That is Camazotz.”

“Camazotz,” Gordon repeated. “Cool name. Hey! That’s the name of the movie that Baron Morbid is showing this weekend.”

“Yes, we know.”

“Is that what’s in the film cans?”

“Brother, why are we suffering this  non-believers questions?” One of the other hooded figures spoke up.

“Why not?” The obvious leader of the bunch replied. “Who will he tell?”

“Yeah, man,” Gordon interjected. “I got no reason to rat out your little ceremony. We’re all friends here, right?”

“Friends,” the leader chuckled. “Yes, I suppose we could be friends. Will you be friends with Camazotz?”

“What the bat thingie over there? Sure, I got nothing against giant bats.”

“Glad to hear that . Would you care to make a donation to the cause?”

“Um, sure. I left my wallet upstairs if you can wait a minute I’ll be happy to throw a couple of bucks into the hat.”

All the hooded figures laughed and Gordon turned to leave. The hooded figure  that had snuck up on him  swung the large, ancient blade with bizarre markings and cleanly removed Gordon’s head from his neck. The group stood aside as Gordon’s body lurched back two steps and fell to the ground. The blood flowed towards the altar and surrounded it before being absorbed into the altar itself.

The hooded figures circled the altar and continued to chant.


	11. 11

“Hey, Sam!” Dean leaned out of the bathroom door of the hotel room. Wrapped in only a towel with water dripping down his taut, muscular chest, Dean had his toothbrush in hand. “You need to try out this shower. I don’t think I’ve ever seen water pressure like this and the shower head has like five settings. Five settings! Most places we stay give us two. Off and on.”

“Yeah, maybe later,” Sam was at the table with his laptop checking the internet for anything that might give him a clue as to the disappearing girls.

“Your loss,” Dean chuckled and went back into the bathroom.

“Sam!” He yelled again. “I think they have a sauna in here. These bulbs look funny.” There was a brief pause and then Dean yowled in pain.

“Dean!” Sam yelled. “What are you doing in there?”

Dean leaned back out into the room for the bathroom.

“Yup, sauna. Don’t touch these things, Sam. They are friggin’ hot.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that, Dean. Thanks.”

A few minutes later Dean emerged from the bathroom fully dressed. He walked over to the table and sat at the chair opposite of Sam.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“I have been trying to find out if any of the girls that disappeared had anything in common.”

“And?”

“Except for the physical characteristics and hair color absolutely nothing. They came from different areas, one was not even from around here. None of them knew the other.

“Huh? I wonder if this is even a case at this point, Sam.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just because we have girls missing that fit a specific profile it doesn’t mean that it’s supernatural in origin. What if it’s just some serial killer getting his jollies?”

“Maybe, that would explain the lack of bodies turning up. Serial killers are known for hunting for trophies.”

“Well, I’m going to go look for Amimiko, make sure she’s okay.”

“Her name is Beverly, Dean. You go ahead and see what you can find at the convention. I was thinking maybe we should call Charlie.”

“Charlie? Why would we call Charlie?”

“If anyone knows how to navigate one of these conventions it would be her. And she’s close by.”

“And, need I remind y o u again, Sam, we cock blocked her from having sex with a fairy. Are you sure we want that attitude on the case?”

“I thought you said it wasn ’ t a case, Dean?”

“You know what I mean. Okay, you keep checking, call Charlie if you want. I think she would be great to have around here just in case. Nobody knows nerds like Charlie.”

“Says the man I caught talking with orcs yesterday in the lobby.”

“Man those costumes were cool. Sam, even you like  Lord of the Rings, right?”

“I prefer the books, Dean, but the movies are alright.”

“Alright?!? I forgot they were books. Those movies are awesome!”

“Alright, Dean, don’t let me keep you from finding Amimiko.”

“Amimiko, right. Okay, wish me luck.”

With that Dean darted out the door and Sam sighed when the door closed.

Sam grabbed his phone, found Charlie’s number and called it.

“Sam, what’s up bitch?”

Sam smiled and winced at Charlie’s greeting.

“Charlie, how do you know it’s me when I use a burner phone?”

“You wish I couldn’t crack a burner phone, Sam Winchester. I just saw you guys, what can you possibly need?” Charlie paused and her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Did you guys already find more monsters? Did you find the fairy princess that you and your brother cock blocked me?”

Sam winced again.

“No, no real monsters or…” Sam paused. “Your fairy princess. We got a case in Kalamazoo.”

“Kalamazoo? Really? I can’t remember the last time I was in that burg. What could possibly be going on in Kalamazoo that needs the Winchester brothers?”

“Missing girl, all the same, body type, same hair color.”

"Not svelte, redhead I suppose?”

“No, tall, skinny, blonde. Four that are confirmed. Dean is checking on a fifth.”

“And how can I help with this?”

“Well, Dean decided that we were going to stay downtown at The Radisson and there’s this thing going on. Something called Morbid Fest?”

“Oh, Shit!” Charlie exclaimed. “I completely forgot about that happening this weekend. I heard Baron Morbid is going to show the long-lost film of George Adamson this weekend.”

“Yeah, Dean’s excited, too. It’s called Camazotz.”

“Yeah, I read that somewhere. So, let me guess. You guys are stuck in nerd hell and you need a professional. Sound about right?”

“Yes, that is it exactly, Charlie.”

“Well, you guys did help save my kingdom in battle and things are slow around here so, yeah, I’ll be there in a couple of hours . Text me your room number and I’ll find you when I get there. No worries about you guys trying to pull off any cosplay, right?”

“Well, I have been told I do a mean Sam Winchester,” Sam smiled to himself.

“Oh, right! Those awful books. Yeah, I’ve seen those covers and may have read two or ten of them. Just awful books, Sam.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“But the covers, they managed to capture you pretty well. Not the same for Dean though.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s been getting that grief here whenever we’re together.”

Charlie started  laughing over the phone.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sam. Now I have to come just to see that play out.”

“He says he doesn’t care, but you know Dean.”

“Yes, yes I do. Alright, see you in a couple of hours, okay?’

“Sounds good, Charlie.”

Sam disconnected the call and then texted her the room number. He put the phone down, looked around the room and scratched his head, unsure what to do next.

“I guess I’ll try that shower out,” Sam said to himself. He stripped down and got in the shower letting the hot water beat against his skin. Dean was right, it was a good shower. After a string of motel rooms for most of their lives, the Winchesters always judged a town on how good the shower was in whatever fleabag motel they stopped in. While The Radisson was no fleabag, Sam looked past all the glitz and glamor and enjoyed the shower. 

When he was done, he  toweled off his massive physique and went  t o get dressed. Then he spotted the sauna lamps in the bathroom and shrugged.

“Why not?” 

He set the timer and the heat lamps. The temperature in the room went up and sweat drained in tiny rivulets down Sam’s  well-muscled form. The heat felt good and Sam could feel the tension leaving his body. He did realize that he would need a second shower at least to make sure his long, brown hair looked good. 

Had to keep up appearances.

After ten minutes in the sauna, Sam realized he couldn’t get Amelia off his mind so he turned it off. Took a cool shower that brought his body temperature down and gave his hair a quick wash. After a good brushing with the complimentary blow dryer helping to dry his hair, Sam got dressed and decided to go see how things were going on the ground floor where the convention was in full swing.


	12. 12

Dean made his way through the crowd. He was amazed at all the people that were jammed into the lobby, milling about. There were tables where people were selling stuff. One thin man with a long beard had t-shirts for sale with wild designs on them. One caught Dean’s eye.

“Hey, wendigo, right?”

The guy smiled and nodded.

“You know your monsters, sir. Are you interested in the shirt?”

“Oh no, yeah I know a lot about monsters. Not a huge fan of wendigoes. Grabby bastards, know what I mean?” Dean smiled.

The t-shirt guy just shook his head.

“Now, that one over there.” It was a shirt of a  Victorian gentleman with a leather bag and a huge wooden stake in his hand. “Abraham Van Helsing, right?”

“Right again,” the vendor replied.

“Yeah,” Dean was proud of himself for recognizing this artistic representation of one of the more famous monster hunters. Even if he was fictional. “You know what? I’ll take a Van Helsing shirt. You have that in a large?”

“No problem,” the man grabbed a shirt off of the pile by the hanging one, checked the tag and put it in a black plastic bag for Dean who handed him a twenty dollar bill to pay for the shirt.

“Thank you,” the t-shirt guy smiled.

“No, thank you,” Dean grinned. He felt that he was getting the hang of the convention thing  he scanned the floor to see if he could see his new friends in orc costumes, but they were  nowhere to be seen. 

Then he spotted a familiar shock of pink hair moving away from him in the crowd.

Amimiko, he thought to himself and made a beeline for her. He was glad that Sam was wrong and she was okay. Weaving through the crowd he got closer and closer. He thought of yelling to her, but he realized he had forgotten her real name and he thought it might look strange to call her by her character name in a crowded room.

Dean grunted and continued to push through the sea of humanity with the pink hair in front of him calling him closer and closer. He finally got close enough that he lightly tapped her on the shoulder. She whirled around and he realized that while she was dressed as Amimiko , it was a different girl. This one was not a thing and a little shorter. It was hard to tell through the crowd.

“Hey!” The  girl’s eyes brightened up when she saw Dean. “What can I do for you, handsome? You a big Amimiko fan? Did you want a picture? Or,” she leaned into Dean’s ear, he could feel her hot breath on his neck. “We’re you looking for something else?”

“Oh, uh,” Dean was flustered. It didn’t occur to him that there could have been more than one person dressed as Amimiko at the convention. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Honey, I’m one of the best cosplayers here. I can be anyone you want.”

Dean laughed a short bark of a laugh.

“Uh, no. Really flattering, but there was another woman dressed as Amimiko and I had a question for her.”

“Oh, Beverly,” the girl in front of him gave a cute, little pout. “Yeah, I know Beverly. I saw her yesterday, but not today. She didn’t mention dressing as anyone else, but she could have brought her Black Widow gear with her.”

“Black widow?” Dean looked confused. “Like a spider?”

“No, silly, Black Widow from Marvel Comics. You know Scarlet Johannsen from the movie?”

“Oh, yes!” Dean exclaimed. “I did see that movie. And you say that she might be dressed like that now?”

“Beats me, sexy. You can see why I’m not really all that interested in bringing the two of you together, get me?”

Dean gave her a blank look , then it clicked.

“Oh, no! No, no it was not that. I just needed to check with her to…you know what? I’m going to go. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“Not a bother,” she ran her hand down his chest and gave him a small kiss on his stubbl y cheek. If things don’t work out with Beverly you come look for me. I promise to be dressed like Amimiko all weekend, stud.”

Dean laughed nervously and turned in the opposite direction and moved as fast as the crowd would allow. He started scanning the crowd for any other pink wigs and now he added Black Widow to what he could possibly be looking for.

“Hey boys and Girls!” came a loud voice over the speaker system in the lobby. “It’s your old pal, Baron Morbid!”

The crowd screamed and yelled in response.

“How’s everyone doing?”

More screaming and yelling.

“That’s great, is everyone excited for the world premiere of Camazotz tonight?”

That was also greeted with more yelling.

“Now, there has been a change in the program for tonight. Because of the turnout, and thank you all for the record  turnout , we will have to show the movie down the street at The State Theater. But, don’t worry Morbid fans it’s all included in the price of the ticket and the exercise will do us all a world of good.”

Baron Morbid was hopping around the stage and he patted his ample belly when he said that and the crowd laughed in response.

“And,” Baron Morbid’s voice dropped to a whisper over the microphone. “To show you how much I love you all for coming…free popcorn for everyone!”

The crowd screamed its approval. Even Dean who got swept up in the whole thing. IN his search for Amimiko he had put the news of the George Adamson movie to the side. He hopes that they either wrapped up the case soon or that it could wait until the movie was over.

“Hey ,” Dean asked a person dressed as Frankenstein’s Monster standing next to him. “What time’s the movie tonight?”

“Eight  o’clock , bub.” The Monster said in a deep voice. 

“Thanks.” 

Then a hand fell on Dean’s shoulder and he whirled around to take action and stopped before his hand reached the butt of his gun  that was tucked into the back of his pants.

It was Sam.

“Hey, Sam. Finally come out of the room, huh? Did you get ahold of Charlie?”

“Yes, I did. She said she will be here in a couple of hours.”

“Hey, nice Sam Winchester costume,” Frankenstein’s Monster spoke up.

“Thanks,” Sam gave the monster a forced grin . Sam grabbed the sleeve of his brother’s shirt and started walking away from the stage area where Baron Morbid was still making the announcement. He had started throwing candy out into the crowd and Sam and Dean made their way down one of the main halls in the lobby towards the bar.

“What’s the matter, Sam?” Dean asked. “You getting tired of all the compliments on your cosplay?”

“Ha, ha, very funny, Dean. Did you find Beverly?”

Dean gave Sam a blank look and then it clicked.

“Oh, you mean Amimiko. Yeah, no I didn ’ t find her. I did find another Amimiko and she was a little help. Did you know that more than one person can dress up as the same person? So damned confusing, Sam?”

“Well, that makes sense. And the Amimiko you found didn’t know where Beverly is?”

“No, and she said she could have been dressed up as Black Widow.”

“Really? Movie or comic book?”

“Now you’re starting to sound like them, Sam. What’s the difference? We look for a Scarlett  Johannsen look alike in a black jumpsuit, right?”

“Well, the Black Widow in the comic book actually has long  red hair and a  skintight black leather jumpsuit.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really, Dean.”

“Well, that should be fun to keep a look  out for. You hungry?”

“Yeah, sure I could eat.”

“Let’s see what the bar has to offer shall we?”

“That’s a good idea. Charlie said she’ll be here in a couple of hours.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty close,” Dean walked to the bar and Sam followed. Dean was a little disappointed when the previous bartender wasn’t there. It was some guy in the same outfit.

“What can I get for you gentlemen?”

“Well,” Dean spoke first. “I’ll have an Amber Ale and do you have burgers?”

“Best burgers in town, sir.”

“Okay, can I get a  bacon cheeseburger with all the fixings and an order of extra crispy French fries?”

“Of course,” the bartender turned to Sam.

“And for you, sir?”

“Why not? I’ll have the same.”

“Really?” Dean turned to his brother.

“Sure, why not? If this turns out to not be a case we are staying in a nice place and you seem to enjoy the convention. It’ll be like a mini vacation.”

“Yeah,” Dean smiled. “Have we ever had a vacation before?”

“Sure we have. There was that one time…” Sam chewed his lip for a second. “Nope, I got nothing.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

The bartender brought them their beer. Sam took a sip.

“That’s pretty good.”

“I know, right? Apparently, they make it right here in town.”

“Really?”

“Yup,” Dean took a long drink from his glass.

“Maybe we should retire here. Between the candy store and that place with the sandwich.”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought of it, Sam. But, when do hunters ever retire?”

“True, but there are enough monsters in the Midwest to make this a regular stop.”

“Now that might be the best idea I’ve ever heard.”

The bartender brought two huge cheeseburgers with  homemade fries. Dean smiled when the food was set in front of him.

The Winchester brothers both picked up the burgers and took a huge bite. Dean smiled at Sam and Sam couldn’t help himself. He smiled. It was a good burger.

They demolished the food in record time and washed it down with a second beer for Sam and a third for Dean.

Then Dean spotted his new orc friends at a table in the back of the bar. He hopped off his bar stool and smacked Sam on the back.

“I’m gonna go say hi to the orcs, Sam. Wanna come?”

“Uh, no I think I’ll go back to the lobby and check out the convention.”

“Really? Okay. Hey, that reminds me.” Dean got his new t-shirt out of its bag and held it out in front of him. “I got a new shirt.”

“Cool, Van Helsing, right?”

“Yup, he has a bunch of monster shirts. Even a Wendigo.”

“Who would want a Wendigo on a t-shirt ?”

“I know, right?”

Dean put his shirt back in its bag and headed over to the table. Sam paid the bartender and headed back to the lobby.

Dean sauntered up to the table and immediately knew that something was wrong.

“Well, if this isn’t a group of gloomy orcs. What’s going on fellas?”

“Gordon has disappeared.”

“Gordon? Who’s Gordon?”

“He is our squad leader, remember the one with the giant battle ax?”

“Oh, yeah, cool ax,” not as cool as my purgatory ax, Dean thought to himself, but it was pretty cool.

“What do you mean he’s disappeared?”

“He went to use the restroom a few hours ago and never returned.”

“The restroom. How do you guys use the restroom in those things anyway?”

“Well, the costume does make using a stall pretty rough, but there is a piss flap, but that doesn’t matter.” 

“Doesn’t matter, why?” Dean asked.

“Because Gordon never used the bathroom in costume. He’s strip down to his shorts and t-shirt he always had on under his costume and stash it someplace to go use the bathroom.”

“Makes sense,” Dean nodded. “So, what does Gordon look like?”

One of the orcs reached into his armor and pulled out a smartphone, he swiped a few times and pulled up a picture and showed it to Dean. Normal looking guy. Average height, weight, scruffy beard, glasses. Yeah, Dean thought to himself. Gordon’s really gonna stand out in this crowd.

“Um, fellas , Gordon here looks like about half the  people here. If he ditched his orc costume it will be like a needle in a haystack.”

All  of the orcs looked at Dean and he sighed and his shoulders sagged.

“Tell you what, I’ll go see what I can find out for you, fair enough?”

The orcs all let loose with an ear-deafening war cry and Dean smiled and walked out of the bar.

He walked back into the mass of people in search of Gordon.

“Man, Gordon,” Dean said to himself. “I hope you are dressed as an orc.”


	13. 13

Sam was browsing through the dealer room and he had to admit that there was a lot of cool stuff. There was also a lot of crap, but Sam didn’t feel that it was his place to say anything. These people were harmless.

He hefted a knife that had a tag that said it would kill a werewolf.

Yeah, not with that nickel plated fake, Sam thought to himself.

Then he heard a little ruckus behind him so he turned to see that some of the people dressed in medieval gar b were all congregated around someone that Sam couldn’t see because of the size of the crowd.

“I’m going to  need my royal subjects to make a path here,” Sam heard the familiar voice of Charlie Bradbury. The crowd parted and Charlie appeared, dressed in her role as Queen of Moondor. She saw Sam and her face lit up.

“Sam!” she exclaimed. “If I knew that so many followers of my game were going to be here I would have dressed as something else.”

“Well, as long as it isn’t  Amimiko that would be fine.”

“Amimiko? Why would I dress like that?” she paused then her face lit back up. “Ah, yes. Dean Winchester and his penchant for Anime porn. How many Amimiko’s are here anyway?”

“Two so far and it’s thrown Dean off his game, I’m afraid. But, he has managed to bond with some orcs.”  

“Sounds about right.”

“I’m also pretty sure that one of them is missing because of the girls that are missing. She fits the type.”

“Right, you mentioned blonde, skinny, young. Have I ever told you how happy I am that I am pretty much the opposite of that type, Sam? It’s like someone decided that young blonde girls are the norm for monster attacks. Although that didn’t help me much with Leviathan did it?”

“Um, no,” Sam wasn’t sure what to say.

“Okay,”  Charlie smiled and patted Sam’s broad chest. “Let’s find your brother and we can…Whoa!”

Charlie stopped in front of the movie poster that held a prominent place in the lobby.

“This is that lost George Adamson flick isn’t it? Camazotz? Why do I know that name?” Charlie turned back to Sam. “Doesn’t that sound familiar?”

“Um,” Sam wracked his brain for obscure lore and came up with nothing. “No, I don’t recognize it. Dean seemed pretty excited about the movie, though.”

“Yeah,  the legend goes that Adamson had lost it by the time he made this movie and no studio would touch it. There are zero stills on the web and no footage at all. And who found this movie?”

“Our host, Baron Morbid.”

“Really? A cable access local horror movie host just happens upon a lost film and decides to show it first at his convention? Actually, from a publicity standpoint that does make sense.”

“It does?” Sam looked puzzled.

“Sure, all of these horror hosts are looking for the same thing; fame. Back in the old UHF channel days, there was a horror host for every market. Some of them got super famous; Elvira, Svengoolie, Zacherele. Now, all of these people decided to follow in their footsteps and put on their own show. The production value of even the big shows is nothing so, anyone can do it. With the advent of the internet and public domain horror movies, you can manage quite a following nowadays. And,” Charlie looked around the lobby, “Apparently there are more than a few here to see what Baron Morbid has up his sleeve.”

“There are?” Sam looked around nervously. Not sure what to expect.

“Yep, that skinny, pale-faced guy over there is A. Ghastlee Ghoul. He’s out of Ohio. A lot of them are out of Ohio. I saw Son of Svengoolie when I walked in, he’s from Chicago. That big guy over there is Dr. Creep. Super nice and does lots of local charity work. The vampire is Count Gore DeVol, he’s from the old days of UHF television and now does a web show. Pretty smart guy. And,  Holy Shit!”  Charlie exclaimed. “The Ghoul is here!”

Sam was going to ask Charlie who this ‘Ghoul’ was but she was already making a beeline to a man in a fright wig with sunglasses missing a lens and a wild goatee. Sam started to follow close behind.

Charlie managed to get close to the man and walked right up to shake his hand.

“Hello, little miss,” The Ghoul said in an animated voice.

“Mr. Ghoul, I just wanted to tell you that I loved your show when I was a kid.”

“Glad to hear it. Always nice to meet a fan.”

“What are you doing here? You don’t go to a lot of these.”

“Well, when I heard that Morbid had dug up a print of George Adamson’s last film I just had to come and see for myself. A lot of us horror hosts made a living off of George  Adamson’s movies.”

“I know!” Charlie  gushed. “I loved Bloody Blood Monsters!”

The Ghoul laughed.

“I remember that one. What about Blood Monster From Space?”

Charlie laughed.

“That one was so awful. I loved that one. Oo! Remember Bloody Death Vampires?”

“Who could forget Bloody Death Vampires? The sets looked like cardboard. MY TV show had better sets than some of Adamson’s movies.”

The Ghoul and Charlie stopped talking and sighed in unison.

“But, they were so much fun, weren ’ t they?” The Ghoul asked.

“I love them all. Thank you for  warping my impressionable young mind.”

“All in a  day’s work. Remember to scratch glass, turn blue and stay sick!” With that, The Ghoul laughed and turned and went into the crowd.

“Charlie?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, Sam?”

“Who was that?”

“That was The Ghoul. One of the best horror hosts from back in the day. Are you telling me that with all your travels around the country you never watche d any late night horror movies?”

“That was more Dean’s thing. I was more along the lines of ‘we already live in a horror movie, why would I watch it on television’ kind of thing.”

“Oh,” Charlie got quiet. “That does make sense. Sorry, Sam.”

“Not a problem. So, what do we do next?”

“Next, we start asking around and seeing if people have noticed anything strange going on.”

“Um, Charlie,” Sam gestured around the room. “This whole place is strange.”

“Just to you. These people are usually pretty observant and would see something outside of their norm, not your idea of normal, Sam. Come on!”

Charlie grabbed Sam by the arm and dragged him into the crowd.


	14. 14

Dean made his way to the restrooms on the main floor. Even the public restrooms were pretty fancy. He could tell that trying to navigate one of those doors in an orc costume would be tough. He washed his hands and headed back out to the lobby.

He spotted a waiter walking with a huge tray down a long hallway with doors scattered on both sides. A quick glance told him that they were banquet rooms. Each door had a frame where a piece of paper could be slid inside to explain what the room was being used for. A couple had been reserved for Morbid Fest and then there were a couple of weddings. Finally, towards the end, he saw one with an empty frame.

Bingo, he thought to himself.

Dean looked around and saw no one around. He reached towards his back where his gun was tucked into the waistband. Cocking it he stepped inside.

The room was pitch black. Dean didn’t want to turn on any lights in case there was someone waiting in the room. He stood stock still and listened as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. The room appeared to be empty and Dean heard nothing that would indicate another person in the room with him.

Staying by the wall he took four steps and then tripped over something and landed flat on his face.

“What the hell?” Dean growled and sat up. He reached out and grabbed something heavy. He knew what it was.

Orc armor.

“Gordon.” Dean hissed into the blackness. “Gordon you in here?”

Dean considered turning on his pocket flashlight, but then he saw the glow on the other side of the room. In the murky blackness, he could see that light was coming from behind a door of some kind.

Dean got up and put his gun in front of him as he made his way across the banquet room. He used the barrel of the gun to open the unlocked door, ready for anything.

Behind the door was a landing with a set of stairs that led down into what must be service tunnels or storage. Dean checked every direction and slowly made his way down the stairs with his pistol in front of him. 

The stairs emptied out into a stark concrete hallway that sloped downward. Dean found a door that was marked maintenance. He stepped in and was rewarded with the coppery tang of blood in the air. It was a maintenance room with all the usual stuff except for a large pool of blood in the center and what looked like drag marks. Dean checked the marks and whatever it was was pretty heavy. Heavier than the person responsible for all of the blood on the floor. His green eyes flashed as he tracked the direction of the drag marks.

As he went to stand back up a hooded figure appeared behind him and hit him behind the ear with the hilt of a long blade with intricate carvings.

Dean went down with a groan and everything went dark.


	15. 15

Meanwhile, Charlie and Sam were questioning people in the lobby and coming up with absolutely nothing. 

“Sam?” Charlie said after they had finished questioning their fifth time lord. “That poster is bothering me?”

“What poster Charlie?” Sam looked to see where she was looking and the huge, garish poster of Camazotz was what she was referring to. 

“Oh, that. Yeah, Dean’s pretty excited to see that.”

“Yeah, no, that’s not it. It’s that name. I’m sick of asking people questions. Let’s just go to your room and check the internet. I’ve got a hunch.”

Sam knew better than to ignore one of Charlie’s hunches so he just nodded and smiled and they made their way to the elevator. One quick ride up and down a plush hallway and they arrived at the hotel room.

“Pretty fancy, Mr. Winchester. You guys usually stay in flophouses.”

“Well, motels. But, yeah this is pretty nice. Dean made some money off some college kids in Ann Arbor at the pool table. How did he put it? Probably their parent’s money anyway.”

“Yeah,”  Charlie laughed. “I can actually hear him saying that. And he’s not here?”

“Oh, no he’s trying to save Amimiko  and, according to another Amimiko she could also be dressed as Black Widow.”

“Comic book or movie?”

“He didn’t know.”

“Pathetic,” Charlie said in a mocking tone. “Did you tell him the difference?”

“Yeah, so he’s going to keep an eye out for both.”

“Okay, let’s fire up that laptop.”

Sam went over to his laptop and switched it on.

“Do you want to use Dean’s laptop, Charlie?”

“Uh, I’m going to pass. I’m pretty sure I know where that thing has been.”

“Yeah,” Sam grimaced. “I can’t say that I blame you for that.”

Sam’s fingers flew over the keys of his computer.

“Look at that. First try.”

“What did you get?”

“Mayan Death Bat.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it appears that Camazotz is the Mayan Bat God of Death. It says here that according to the ancient tome Popol Vuh that a pair of Mayan Twins named Hunahpu and Xbalanque had to spend the night in the House of Bats and one of them lost his head to Camazotz who used it in an ancient ball game.”

“Yuck,” Charlie interjected.

“No, it seems that his brother retrieved the head and put it back on. Anyway, Camazotz, also referred to as Lord Tohil made a deal with man kind that in exchange for our waists and armpits he would give us the gift of fire.”

“Waists and armpits?” Charlie looked at Sam with a quizzical stare. “What good are waists and armpits? Is it because they both bend?”

“It doesn’t say. Doesn’t it seem odd that the movie has the same name?”

“Yeah . I thought it was weird because it doesn’t have ‘blood’ or ‘monster’ in the title. And why go for Camaztoz when Mayan Death Bat would be so much cooler as far as titles go?”

“Beats me, let me see what I can find out about our friend George Adamson.”

“Okay, I’m going to check out the message boards while you do that.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t touch Dean’s laptop?”

Charlie pulled her smartphone out from her back pocket.

“Yeah, this works for message boards and Twitter. ”

Sam gave Charlie a sheepish grin.

“Yeah, of course. Okay, let’s see what we can find out about this director of yours.”

“Oh no Sam, George Adamson belongs to everyone .”

Sam had no words for that so he continued to look for information on the director as Charlie connected with fellow fans to find out about the lost film.


	16. 16

Dean’s head throbbed as he came back to consciousness. He could feel the sticky residue of blood in his hair and he focused to see where he was. He recognized  the room as the one he walked into that was under the hotel.

He also realized that he was tied to a chair. He strained to see if anyone else was in the room and came up with nothing. He flexed his sinewy muscles to test the bonds and while the rope was pretty strong, whoever tied the knots was an amateur. He started working on the knots. A small grin passed his face as he knew he would be out of the ropes in no time.

Then he heard the door in front of him creak so he pretended to be unconscious, he kept his eyes open as just slits so it looked like they were closed, but he could see everything.

Two hooded figures walked into the room.

“Geez, Bob, how hard did you hit him?”

“Not that hard, Larry. Who do you think he is?”

“Not sure. I thought a basement in a hotel would be a great spot to bring our sacrifices. Who knew there this much foot traffic in a fancy hotel’s basement?”

“It’s all these nerds. They are just so damned curious. This one seems more of the rugged type though.”

Dean stopped himself from smiling as the last knot gave way from his expert fingers. These weren’t Dean’s first knots and he knew they wouldn’t be his last. He held fast to the ropes so they wouldn’t fall to the ground.

“Well, help me with this guy. The leader wants him put into one of those things the maids lug laundry in and we need to sneak him to the theater. He thinks the final blood sacrifice will help in summoning Camazotz.”

With that Dean stood straight up from the chair, fists up and ready for anything. The one called Bob screamed with a high pitched wail and dropped to the ground in a fetal position. Larry had the big ceremonial that had left Dean with a headache. He held in front of him as Dean advanced Dean could see that the knife was quivering to match Larry’s fear that emanated from his beady little eyes.

Dean shouted and Larry dropped the knife. Bob went to stand up and Dean picked up the knife and pointed it at him.

“You need to stay down or I will put you down.” Bob went back to the fetal position. Dean turned to Larry.

“Time to talk, fanboy.”

“Okay, okay, settle down. We were just following orders.”

“Whose orders?”

“Our leader. He is going to raise the Mayan Bat God of Death and we will all rule under his mercy.”

“Mayan Bat God of Death? Let me guess; Camazotz.”

“That is his true name, but an infidel should never speak it aloud.” Larry took a step forward, Dean brandished the knife with a scowl and Larry took two steps back.

“How is he summoning the Bat God?” Dean asked.

“With the film made by the acolyte.”

“Film? Do you mean the lost George  Adamson movie?”

Larry nodded.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed. “I really wanted to see that.”

Dean looked at the two of them and weighed his options.

“Alright, gentlemen, how do you want to do this?”

“Do what?”

“Well, I need to leave and stop your nutball leader. You can cooperate and let me tie you up with knots way better than whatever that slop you used on me was. Or…” Dean left the sentence hanging as he twisted the huge knife in his hand.

“No!” Larry rushed Dean. Dean used the hilt to knock Larry out.

“How about you sunshine?” Dean asked Bob.

Bob fainted.

“Well there you go,” Dean said to himself.

Dean dragged the two men to opposite ends of the room and used the rope they had used on him to tie them both up. They had wasted too much rope on Dean and that made it easy to get out of. In a few minutes, he had them both tied up to metal shelving that was bolted to the concrete floor. He thought about gagging them, but he wasn’t sure how  often the room was used and if he didn’t make it back he didn’t want their deaths on his head.

“Stupid bat worshippers,” he hissed at the unconscious figures and headed out of the room. He stashed the ceremonial knife under his jacket and headed back upstairs.

He went through the dark banquet room and headed down the hall to the lobby where there  weren’t nearly as many people as there should be. Then he spotted Sam and Charlie and made a beeline for them.

“Sam! Charlie!” he bellowed as he ran over to them. He hugged Charlie when he got there.

“Dean, where have you been? I tried calling your phone, but you didn’t answer.”

“Got knocked out by some bat worshippers.”

“Bat worshippers?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah, it seems that the movie I was so damned excited to see is actually…”

“…a summoning spell for the Mayan Bat God of Death,” Sam finished for him.

Dean stopped and looked at both of them.

“Got this all researched while I was risking my neck didja?”

Sam and Charlie looked at the floor in response.

“ Never mind that. We got to get to this theater their showing the movie.”

“Yeah, The State Theater. We know where it is, follow us.”

“Don’t we need the car?”

“No, it’s on the downtown mall, literally three blocks away.”

“Sounds good, let’s go.”

They ran out of the hotel onto the mall and headed towards the theater. As they ran, Dean showed Sam and Charlie the ceremonial knife he had taken from Larry.

“Nice knife,” Charlie said as they ran. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we might need this. Any ideas on how to kill a bat god?”

“Charlie was checking on that,” Sam spoke up. “And I think you’re right about the knife. But, to weaken Camazotz enough we’re going to need a really bright light.”

“Okay, any ideas on that?”

“It’s a theater, Dean ,” Charlie said. “We can use the projector.”

They made it to the theater and in the front door. The person at the ticket booth attempted to stop them and Dean threw money at him. 

They burst into the theater and there was Baron Morbid on the stage playing to the crowd.

“Okay, guys and ghouls let’s get my faithful sidekick Jacques Strahp out here and we will start the movie. Jacques!”

A lanky teenager with long, flowing red hair strode out onto the stage with a giant stick with something shimmering on the end of it.

“That hair is glorious,” Charlie observed.

“I will have to agree,” Sam spoke up.

“Now what?” Dean hissed at the pair.

“No idea, it just looks like a regular spook show to me,” Charlie had nothing to go on.

Then all Hell broke loose.

“Thanks for the staff, Jacques,” Baron Morbid took the staff and started to twirl it. The huge crystal on the end caught the light and sent a bizarre rainbow effect shimmering throughout the theater.

“Well, that’s just weird, right Sam?” Dean asked.

No answer. Dean turned to look at Sam and Charlie and they were staring straight ahead at the stage.

“Crap!” Dean hissed and took off out of the theater. H e had noticed a set of side stairs that led up to what he hoped was a balcony.  All older theaters had balconies.

The top floor had two men in robes and when they saw Dean they came rushing at him. Dean was in a rush so he knocked them both out in record time and then he went looking for the projection booth. It was clearly marked and as he approached the door he could hear the film whirring behind the door. He went to open it, but it was locked up tight. He tried forcing it open, but it was made of metal and there was no lock. It was bolted from the inside. In a panic, he went to the entrance of the balcony seating and went in. In front of him was the movie he had been so excited to see.

There was a huge man on the screen slowly peeling the skin from a young woman. It sickened Dean because he knew that since the film was nothing more than a glorified summoning spell that the poor girl was being murdered. The film rattled on and there was a circle of hooded figures with Baron Morbid and his sidekick Jacques in the center and they were all chanting.

Dean looked around for some way to stop the movie before it was too late.

He tried to stall to buy some time.

“What do you think you’re doing, Baron Morbid?”

“I am claiming my power!” The horror host shouted from the stage. “You don’t know what it’s like. To have some crappy little show on cable access showing crappy old public domain movies. I deserve better.”

“We all deserve better. What makes you so damned special?”

“I knew I was special when I found the film  canisters online. Some fool had them for sale on  eBay looking to make a quick buck. I bought them in the hopes of making a DVD deal of the late great George Adamson’s final film.”

“I think ‘great’ might be an exaggeration,” Dean shouted.

“You shut it!” Baron Morbid shouted back. 

As they shouted the film continued and the hooded figure continued to chant.

Then the edges of the screen crackled and a giant demonic bat lumbered from the screen and into the theater.  Its huge feet crushed two of the hooded figures breaking the chant and the spell on the crowd.

That was when the screaming started. 

“Finally!” Baron Morbid yelled over the screaming horde of humanity. “Jacques! The power is ours at last!”

“Yeah,” Jacques looked skeptically at the monster that was rampaging in the enclosed space. “I think I’m gonna pass.”

And with that Jacques made a beeline for the exit. 

“Jacques!” Baron Morbid shouted after his sidekick, but it was too late. He was gone. The shouting did catch the ear of Camazotz who  turned to face the horror host.

“Camazotz!” Baron Morbid yelled. “I have brought you back to rule over this domain. I beseech you to give me a small portion of your power so that I may do your bidding.”

Camazotz, hunched down and let loose with a screech of such volume and power that Baron Morbid was sent hurtling through the movie screen into the concrete wall behind it with such force that he burst like an overripe watermelon.

“And that’s why you don’t deal with gods,” Dean said to no one in particular. Then he spotted the little window where the movie was being projected. He cocked his gun and stood on the back of one of the chairs in the back row under the window and  hoisted himself up. He saw a man in the booth looking terrified. When he saw Dean he came forward to knock Dean loose from the window. 

Dean shot him in the face. People were dying and there was no time to lose. Then he took careful aim at the film as it speeds through the projector. He fired once severing the film. The projector sent a white beam of light into the theater directly into Camaztoz’ face. The monster screamed as the light hit his sensitive eyes.

Dean tucked his gun in the back of his pants and grabbed  the ceremonial knife with both hands.

Gonna be a hell of a jump, he thought as he ran down the aisle towards the balcony railing.  Dean jumped, his feet making contact with the rail and he leapt into the air right at the beast that had  heard him coming and whirled to face him.

Dean screamed as Camazotz screeched at him. He made the  distance and plunged the huge knife into the breast of the beast,

With a bellow of agony, Camazotz exploded into a million tiny lights that twinkled for a moment and then evaporated into the air.

Dean fell to the theater floor below and managed to miss the seats and land in the aisle with a sickening thud.

Sam and Charlie who had been helping evacuate the place came running to his side. 

“Dean!” Sam yelled. “Come on man, get up. Dean!” Sam shouted in his brother’s face.

There was a moment of silence and then Dean coughed and opened his eyes.

“My back feels wrecked.” He looked around the movie theater.

“Did we get him?”

“Yeah, Dean. We got him.” Sam smiled with a worried look because of his brother’s constant recklessness.

“That was a hell of a leap, my friend.” Charlie hugged Dean.

“Did a lot of people get hurt?” Dean asked.

“Surprisingly not,” Charlie smiled. “It seems that nerds always know where the exits are and use them accordingly.”

“Good to know.” Dean smiled.

“Of course, the leader of all of this is a gooey pancake behind the screen,” Sam observed.

“That guy gave horror hosts a bad name, Sam.”

“So, now what?” Charlie asked.

“Now, we get a shower, some sleep and call it a damned day,” Dean grumbled as he stiffly got up off the floor.

Sam and Charlie helped him up and they walked back to the hotel.

As they walked back to the hotel, Sam spoke up.

“Charlie, do you want us to get a room for you? I’m sure that Dean still has some of his fortunes left.”

“Sure, Charlie. No sweat.”

“My queen!” A young lady dressed in medieval garb came running up to them. Her long, blonde hair flowing behind her.

“I saw you in the theater. And then the monster came and I tried to find you. Are you injured?”

“No, I’m fine. I don’t recognize you from Moondor?”

“I am of the fairy clan, Elderwhite. We operate out of California at  Sunnundor.”

“Ah, Sunnundor! And how is King Charles?”

“He is well, m’lady. Shall I tell you tales of our kingdom? Say over drinks?”

Charlie turned to smile at Sam and Dean.

“I think I can find my own place to bed down for the night gents.”

“Are you sure, Charlie?” Dean looked worried.

Charlie walked over to Dean with a smile, grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him down to her level.

“Cock block me again Winchester and you will find out why I am the Queen of Moondor.”

Dean laughed and straightened up.

“Alright then. We shall leave you to it. Come on Sam.”

“Bye, Charlie,” Sam hugged Charlie.

The Winchester Brothers walked back to the hotel for some  well-earned rest and relaxation.


	17. 17

The next morning Dean and Sam went downstairs and checked out of the hotel. They discovered a breakfast bar was open so they ate breakfast before they left. Afterward, they walked down the mall because Dean wanted to stock up on Skybars before they left town.

“Closed,” Dean growled at the sign in the window.

“I figured it might be,” Sam replied.

“Oh yeah. And why is that, genius?”

“Well, during the scuffle last night I saw a few of the hooded bad guys get trampled by Camazotz and I’m pretty sure that one of them was the guy running this shop.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean kicked the door.

“Come on, Dean. I uploaded the map that shows where every Rocket Fizz is and there’s one on the way to see Kevin.”

“Really?” Dean’s big white smiled returned at the news.

“Sure, I’ll get you a whole bag of Skybars.” 

They walked back to the parking ramp where they left Baby and as they walked Sam asked Dean a question.

“Why  weren’t you affected by the Hypno thing that Baron  Morbid had?”

“Beats me. I thought that was pretty weird too, but then I figured it was time to slice and dice a bat god so I just took it at face value.”

“Face value?”

“Sure, we Winchesters don’t catch a lot of breaks, but when we do…look out world!”

Sam and Dean laughed in unison and kept walking down the road.

 

THE END


End file.
